


A Selfish Being

by emesa



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23347486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emesa/pseuds/emesa
Summary: After being more-or-less forced to marry, we find ODC on their wedding night. Darcy is eager, Elizabeth is uncomfortable, and sparks are sure to fly - although perhaps not the sort of sparks one might expect in a bedchamber. Oneshot.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	A Selfish Being

**Author's Note:**

> In this story, Mr Darcy and Elizabeth are forced to marry early in their acquaintance. Fanfiction is awash with accounts of our favourite couple’s wedding night, but this one is a little different.

“Blast, Woman!” he cried, frustrated beyond measure. “Stop blocking me!” 

Darcy glared at the woman before him - his  _ wife _ \- who stared defiantly back at him, her arms crossed protectively across her chest and one hand holding the neck of her night dress closed with a white-knuckled grip. 

The evening was not at all unfolding as he had hoped it would. Whatever qualms he had about his sudden, involuntary marriage - and they were many - he had no such reluctance to his bride herself - Elizabeth was all that was lovely; witty, kind, fiery, beautiful. Darcy had admired her from afar for weeks - she was of too low a social circle to marry, he had thought it wise to keep his distance - and yet he had wanted her, wanted her brilliant conversations in his library, her tender care directed at him, her passion in his bed. During their short betrothal he had finally allowed himself to dwell on these thoughts, and by the day of their marriage he had been full of eager anticipation for their wedding night. However, instead of the Elizabeth of his imaginings who met him with enthusiasm and ardor, he was faced with a woman who obstructed him at every turn and seemed to want nothing to do with him!

“Forgive me,” Elizabeth said stiffly, glancing quickly at his bed looming on one side of the room, “but I cannot be easy in such intimacy with a near stranger.”

A stranger! Had they not been in each other’s company frequently for these last two months? Had she not debated any number of subjects with him? Surely she knew his reputation as a gentleman, that he was neither a profligate nor a rake, nor did he abuse those under his care. His gaze hardened. She was his wife, and it was her duty, by law, to submit to him. “I am your husband.”

“You believe, then, that the act of being married confers knowledge of one’s spouse? That when I took your name I became acquainted with your history and your character?” Her eyebrow rose in challenge.

“Have we not come to know each other over these last weeks?” he retorted uncomfortably, ignoring her ridiculous notion of magic.

“For the sake of my own happiness I hope what I have learned of you since you entered the country is incorrect.” 

Distracted, Elizabeth neglected her hold of her nightdress, which gaped open to reveal the smooth skin of her collarbone. Darcy frowned as he redirected his eyes to his wife’s face. What could she mean?

Elizabeth’s expression softened slightly as she watched him. “It has been a long day. We will both be better for a good night’s rest.” Curtseying, she would then have left the room, but Darcy grabbed her arm.

“No.”

“No?” She raised that challenging eyebrow again and looked meaningfully at the arm he held.

He let go, but spoke firmly. “You will explain what you know of me that causes you to fear for your good health.”

“I…” She hesitated, her eyes darting around the room as she looked everywhere but at him. There was a long pause, dreadful to Darcy as he waited. “I do not believe I should say,” she said at last. “It would not promote our future felicity.”

“Tell me!” he commanded, his frustration and anxiety mounting, causing his voice to be rather louder and sharper than he intended.

Elizabeth flinched away from him, fear flashing across her face, then curled her hands into fists and faced him squarely. “Is this how it shall be? You will shout at me when I do not adhere to your every whim? It is exactly as I had expected of you.”

“How little you must think of me, madam.” He breathed deeply, struggling to restrain his temper.

“How could I not? It did not take you long to impress me with your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others. You took every opportunity to insult not only myself, but my family and my friends also.”

She looked like an avenging angel in her white nightdress, her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders and her eyes blazing. Even in the midst of his anger over her prejudiced view of him, Darcy could not help but admire her. “And this is your opinion of me! And yet you still married me. Your mother should congratulate herself on having successfully trained you in how to catch a wealthy gentleman.” He winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth - he knew Elizabeth was frequently upset by her mother. But the woman goaded him beyond everything!

Elizabeth’s face turned an alarming shade of red. Raising her chin, she gave him a look that should have incinerated him on the spot. “You have insulted me in every possible manner. You are no gentleman.” She turned away from him, again heading toward the exit.

Appalled as he was at his behavior this evening, Darcy was not willing to let his wife leave. He was the man, she was  _ his _ wife, and he  _ would _ emerge from this conflict the victor. “You will stay,” he said in tone he would use on a difficult servant. Her back stiffened at his words, but she continued toward the door. “You are my wife,” he hissed, grabbing her arm again, “and you  _ will _ obey me! Or do your marriage vows mean nothing to you?”

Slowly, she turned to face him. She kept her eyes cast demurely on the ground, and her face showed none of the emotions he was used to seeing it carry; it was strangely blank. “Very well,” she said, and her voice was also colourless. “What do you wish of me?”

“I wish you to stay.” He released her arm, half expecting her to make a run for it, but she remained still, eyes on the floor. Tentatively, he stroked a hand along her cheek, then down her neck. This time she did not back away or block him, and he became bolder, pushing her night dress off one shoulder and pressing a kiss to the exposed skin. His other hand circled around behind her, exploring the curves of her back and bottom through the thin fabric. Her form was as delicious as he had imagined it - more so, even - and it took him several minutes to realise Elizabeth stood as stiff and still as a statue. He drew back, irritated at her lack of response and a little embarrassed by his own all too apparent reaction to her.

“Are you made of stone, woman?”

“I am not.”

There was a little wobble in her voice, which made him look closer, and he saw...was that a tear? Gently he tipped her chin up, and although her face was determined, in her eyes he saw a glint of fear. “Are you afraid of me?”

She looked away, and he had his answer. Stumbling back a few steps, Darcy felt shame rise up in him, threatening to choke him. After all the talks with his father, years of denying and controlling himself so he could call himself a true gentleman, his wife, the woman he loved (for he realised now that he loved Elizabeth), was afraid of him! Thought him some sort of monster, probably - certainly she did not see him as the gentleman he had always thought himself .

Looking back over his behavior that day through Elizabeth’s eyes, his shame rose even higher. Caught up in his own feelings over his sudden marriage and undesirable new family, he had failed to consider how his new wife was handling her abrupt change in circumstances. She had not wanted to marry him, he finally understood - snatches of overheard conversations and her own ambiguous words now coming together to form a cohesive picture - and how had he treated her? Uncomfortable, he had barely said two words to her, and less to everyone else. He had not meant to give offense, yet that is what he had done. Selfishly, he had done nothing to set Elizabeth at ease, had considered only what  _ he _ thought and what  _ he _ wanted. And here was his result: a wife who feared him, despised him, and with just cause.

It was a lot to take in - his whole world had shifted, and it would take time to sort out where he stood in this new order, and what his next steps would be. For this exact moment, however, his path was clear.

Elizabeth still stood where he had left her, shivering slightly in the cool air. Judging it best to give her some space - for now - he spoke from ten steps away. “Forgive me, Elizabeth,” he said, making a conscious effort to speak softly, gently. “I have behaved badly. Very badly.” She looked up from her study of the rug with wary eyes. “I cannot say how I will correct this, but I intend to make every effort. For now, I know you have long been desiring to retire. Please accept my best wishes for a restful night and a happier outlook tomorrow than you presently expect.”

Elizabeth’s mouth hung open for a moment in surprise before she curtseyed, and on rising the gratitude in her eyes warmed him and shamed him in equal measure. 

After the door clicked closed behind her, Darcy shrugged on his robe and sat at the desk, pulling out ink and paper and pen. For a moment his pen tip hovered over the paper as Elizabeth’s words rang uncomfortably in his ears.  _ You are no gentleman. Your arrogance, conceit… _ He had strayed far from the man he wanted to be. ‘A True Gentleman’, he wrote firmly across the top of his page, then underlined for good measure. This would be a long night with little or no sleep, but he would be a better man for it.


End file.
